Never that.

I had sex with him. Yes, I lost my virginity to him. And now, I don't even know what that means.

Prior to that, he had been MIA for almost a week. And since Saturday night, I've had VERY limited contact with him -- contact that I had to initiate, by the way. And now I'm scared. Because I did something with him that actually has value to me. As bitter and cynical as I am towards love and dating, I still believe SEX is something you do when you care. Well, it's something that I did because I cared.

The whole time we were doing it, I thought to myself, "I'm okay with this. I'm okay with letting him be my first... because I care about him. I really care about him. And that makes it okay."

But what if it's not okay? What if I made a huge fucking mistake? I keep trying to explain it away in my head: "You know what this means, Michelle. It means he's just not that into you. You'll be fine with it." But I'm not fine with it. I let you shove your fucking penis inside me... for like, half an hour! It was the first penis to ever be shoved inside me! That means something. I'm not okay with that not being validated and acknowledged. So fuck you, royally. And I don't mean literally. I mean, I hope karma comes back and rapes you in the ass.

I rewarded bad behavior with pussy. I don't think this makes me a whore. I don't think this makes me weak. I don't even think this makes me over it. But it makes me think over everything. It makes me want to throw up and scream and cry. It makes me want to throw a tantrum and slap him in the face and ram my Expedition into his fucking Corolla. It makes me really fucking angry.

I'm not an idiot. I knew that having sex with him wouldn't make him love me. I didn't want him to love me. I just don't want to be caught up in this anymore. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of him. As much as I care about him, love him even... Maybe? Yes? As much as I am consecrated to these emotions -- I didn't sign on for this. "I just suck at staying in contact." That's bullshit. It wasn't until recently that you "sucked at staying in contact". The optimist thinks that you care about me, but you're trying to push me away. The realist in me thinks you're just an asshole.

I hate you. I mean it this time. As much as I care about you and would be torn apart if you died... I hate you. You're not a real man. You're a figment of a little boy's hero-worshiping imagination. And I don't have time for fiction, boys, or heroes. I just want a man. I just want you. No titles, no complications, no long-term plans. All I've ever wanted or cared about was YOU. And that's the part you don't get. Being called your girlfriend would be nice. Being thought about and knowing that I'm thought about is even nicer.

Gawd, I hope you have the shittiest fucking day today. I hope you get an STD today... or in a car accident. I hope something shitty happens to you. Because that's how you make me feel sometimes.

So yeah... FUCK YOU.